Bill Conley was watching his
daughter play lacrosse one Saturday morning when he
overheard two dads earnestly discussing college plans for
their kids. "The key," one dad told the other, "is to get
Sara committed to golf. I just read that there are 150
full-tuition girls golf scholarships that go unclaimed
every year." Bill, who is dean of enrollment and academic
services at Johns Hopkins, managed to keep mum but says the
exchange is emblematic of a trend that has him worried.
"We're seeing many parents whose message to their kids is,
'Don't dare do anything you love to do or want to do unless
it will help you get into college,'" Bill says. "Kids are
being engineered to make definitive commitments to one or
two activities and then go for broke. It's really sad."

There's evidently been a seismic paradigm shift in the two
decades since I was applying to colleges, an era when the
big emphasis was on being "well-rounded." If you had strong
SAT scores, played first-chair clarinet, lettered in
several sports, and earned the lead in the school musical,
you were a solid candidate at upper-tier colleges. Today,
Bill tells me, the emphasis among Baby Boomers raising
"Millennials" (kids born between 1980 and 2000) is on
"angularity" — having a single distinctive talent
that makes you a regional or even national standout.

To be fair, there are plenty of "angular" student
superstars whose passion comes from within. The challenge
for Bill Conley, director of undergraduate admissions
John Latting, and their staff is distinguishing the
self-driven types from those who've been "packaged." The
former make enormous contributions to campus life. The
latter suffer burnout at alarming rates, Bill says.

Happily, you don't have to look far among this year's
freshman class to find kids whose passions seem to be the
real deal. In "Freshman
Sampler" we highlight just a few — among them a
gourmet chef, cattle handler, Turkish basketball
"freestyle" enthusiast, and published author. And there are
dozens more impressively fascinating freshmen whom you
won't see: an engineering student who grew the largest
pumpkin at the Maryland State Fair; a young woman who
trains with the Junior National Luge team; an award-winning
dog handler; an Irish-dancing enthusiast. The list goes
on.

"To me, these things are as exciting as being a National
Merit finalist," says Bill Conley, "and these kids are
genuine."

The take-home lesson for parents? Take a deep breath and
let go. The "right" angles for our children are the ones
they forge themselves.